


Nine Outta Ten

by Val_Creative



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Biting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Nudity, Oral Fixation, Playful Sex, Public Nudity, Season/Series 02, Silly, Trust Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: While yachting out of Mexico, Klaus practices with Ben on how to manifest himself. In the sexy way.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 18
Kudos: 106
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	Nine Outta Ten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecat/gifts).



> HARGREEVES SHIPPING RIGHTS. WE LOVE TO SEE IT. PLEASE ENJOY. 💜🖤🤍 ANY THOUGHTS/COMMENTS WELCOMED.

*

"I could get used to this," Klaus sighs out, lifting his face to the hot Caribbean air.

They've finally left Mexico. He doesn't know anything about mega yachts — or _MEGA_ mega yachts, like Kitty owned — but it seems like the personnel needed to refuel in the West Indies. One of Kitty's wealthy investor pals recommend stopping in Antigua.

Kitty, _oh_ — Klaus mentally sniffles.

The old, Chanel-wearing hussy who fawned over Klaus outside a diner. His newest love interest. His 1960s version of a _Sugar Momma_. His one way ticket to dicks and drugs and debutantes. She got Klaus a foot into his influential cult by believing the craptastic words spawning off Klaus's lips.

It's adorable and sad.

_Sadorable._

He doesn't feel like bringing her back, especially after the inheritance, but Kitty treated him like a precious gem. Her confidante. Her best friend. She never tried to weasel the hundred dollar bills and Louis Vuitton for an opportunity on Klaus's cock. 

(Not that he probably would have minded, Klaus admits.)

But now, there's thousands and thousands of dollars legally held by him. Mansions dotted along Beverly Hills, Malibu and San Francisco. Closets of luxury leather bags and fur coats. Strappy diamond-encrusted high heels. Limos. Helicopters. Cocaine.

It's _everything_ that Klaus could ever want.

The bright turquoise waters of Prickly Pear Island lap against the sides of the yacht. He wanders the upper deck, humming along to _"It's Raining Men"_ and nursing a cocktail. Dark sunglasses perch on Klaus's nose. 

Klaus spits the hand-rolled cigarette between his lips, purposely ignoring one of Destiny's Children scrambling to catch it.

He chose a long, sheer gown out of the travel-trunk with a deep-plunging neckline, exposing his tanned chest and Dave's military tags. It's layered in black gossamer cloth that turns vermilion under the sun. Klaus imagines that scene out of Dracula — the one with a young Keanu Reeves — where the crazy lady disappeared into the gardens in her nightie and then fucked a werewolf. Or something.

The point is she was living her _best_ life. Not giving any fucks.

Except apparently to the werewolf.

(Keanu Reeves could have pulled off the tantalizingly red getup. Half-naked, hypnotized and humping beasts in the dark.)

Twirling in the breeze, Klaus passes eight or nine of his followers gleefully clapping as he puts on a show. Dramatically extending his arms and spinning. Spinning until Klaus's vision spins too. The bold red gossamer catches the noon-light. 

A pale, yellow-haired man covered in freckles swoons when Klaus hugs him absentmindedly.

Despite how much sex they've all been having, he vividly remembers Elliot's tongue dragging saliva-wet on his balls. Him and Maria — a woman with irresistibly soft, brown skin and a gigantic eyebrow piercing — played with Klaus all yesterday, sucking and fingering his ass.

Another man (Dennis??) and a college-aged woman tattooed in roses (Madelaine??? or Maria, _god_ … Klaus has lost count of the Marias pledging themselves to Destiny's Children since leaving Fresno… …) join the hug, stroking Klaus's frizzy beard.

Klaus distracts them by thrusting his cocktail at Madelaine-Maria, spilling the contents on her tee and pretending to apologize. 

He ducks into a stairwell. 

Thankfully, no one bothers with him after helping her. Their voice rise and fall. 

Klaus rushes to a lower and second-level deck, hiding by a corner. He peers over.

Down below, there's a line of bikini beauties. More followers. They lie stomach-down on towels, their legs kicked up and their bare, lotioned feet playfully wiggling in the air. Klaus's eyes devour the sight of the plump jut of their buttocks. His cock twitches in interest.

One of the woman laughs, taking off her sunglasses. She kisses the also laughing, purple-haired woman next to her.

That's when Klaus notices Ben peering over the railing with him and gripping his hands down. "Jesus—fucking shit—" Klaus mutters, reeling sideways and facing Ben's profile. He glares. "A little privacy? Is that too much to ask for?"

Ben's mouth falls open slightly. "Don't mind me," he comments, watching on eagerly as both women kiss harder.

"They're way out of your league, Benny-boy."

"You're one to talk." Ben scoffs. "Fraud."

_"Mm—"_

Klaus opens up an arm, letting the scarlet gossamer blow over Ben's face.

"Are you kidding?" Ben deadpans, tearing his gaze from the women and frowning at Klaus.

"Hey, you're always whining about testing the manifestation abilities. You wanna feel something this time?" Klaus twirls himself, smiling manically wide as Ben grumbles and untangles himself from the layers of Klaus's gown-ends. "This is practice."

"Wait…" 

For a moment, Klaus's pulse quickens. Huh?

"I do think I feel something…" Ben declares, mocking surprise. His face drops. "Annoyed."

Klaus lets out a _'pfftt!'_ and rolls his eyes.

Ben examines him, tilting up an eyebrow, He has no place to judge, Klaus thinks. He's been wearing Diego's black leather jacket since dying. "What even are you wearing?" Ben points out. "Or is this an excuse to walk around naked in public, Klaus? Again?"

"It's _CHANEL_!" Klaus says indignantly. "I'm in _MOURNING_ , you jackass!"

"I can see your dick."

"You like it."

"Not really," Ben mumbles. The weirdest part to Klaus is that Ben doesn't sound convincing. At all.

*

Keechie and Jill (or is she Maria?… _fuck it_ …)… …

They offer themselves to prayer when Klaus goes to bed. Condoms and all. Klaus sends them off politely with a Quaalude.

He's not in the mood.

Being worshiped as a cult leader _sucks_. Klaus had no idea. Jim Jones made it seem so easy.

Heat seeps in through the yacht's bay-windows. Clings to Klaus's naked skin and the silk sheets he arranges over his groin.

Ben leans against the cabin-wall, standing with his arms folded. His head turned away. Klaus figures he probably shouldn't be _double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon_ in front of him. For no reason. Or he's gonna hear more whining all night.

"Come here!" Klaus drawls, grinning and patting the large bejeweled pillow in front of him. "Take a load off!" 

Ben doesn't say anything. Or blink. It's a neutral and thoughtless expression on him.

"Yoohoo!" Klaus calls out, removing the glisteningly violet lollipop from his mouth. He folds his legs under the sheet. Not even whistling at Ben works. "I always wanted to know… can you get horny when you're dead?" 

"Will you shut up," Ben murmurs.

Klaus huffs, but seemingly amused. "It's a valid question!" he declares. "You wanna practice?"

_"Huh?"_

"Manifesting," Klaus adds, watching as Ben's expression floods into complete astonishment. He straightens up from the wall. Klaus grins harder, the rows of his teeth exposing. "Dude, I wasn't gonna force you into it. That's uncool." 

After a long period of silence, Ben nods.

"Yeah…" he says, walking to the pillow Klaus offered and murmuring again. "Yeah… let's do that…"

Klaus takes a deep breath, concentrating on the ripples of spectral energy that forms Ben. He grunts. The tips of Klaus's fingers glow a hauntingly luminescent blue. Ben, also outlined in blue, glows for half a moment before solidifying. They quiver.

"God… that feels weird," Ben mutters, the corners of his mouth quirking down. "It's so _cold_ …"

"Try this." 

Klaus holds out his lollipop. Ben's fingers stretch out. At first, they materialize through Klaus's fingers, glowing blue. "This is a two-way street, man," Klaus reminds him, concentrating the thin, phantasmal quivers of Ben's spirit. "Get with the program."

A scoffing noise. "You're lecturing _me_?"

"It was gonna happen one day. Like it or not."

Ben tries again, finally gripping on the lollipop's stick. "There's nothing funky in this, is there?" he asks, eyeing the pearlescent violet color suspiciously. Klaus shakes his head. It's the truth. Medicinal candies tend to uncomfortably dry out Klaus's mouth.

Klaus considers getting up until he watches Ben's pillowy, pink lips widen open, molding around the lollipop. Slicking up. 

_Fuck…_

Ben's tongue flashes out, sluggish-slow, curling around the purple. Oh, oh fuck. Klaus clenches his teeth, biting on his jowl. His cock gives a long, hard twitch under the silk sheets. Ben rounds his mouth, suckling lightly, and… it's just a damn lollipop. 

_Get a grip, Klaus…_

"Tastes like when you still got the wrapping paper on. The lollipop is there, but it's muffled," Ben says. "You know what I mean?"

"See?" A nervous, high laugh escapes Klaus. "Don't say I never did nothin' for ya, Benny."

Ben pops the lollipop out of his mouth audibly. Klaus's entire body vibrates.

"… can I kiss you?"

It's a softly spoken question flaming an indescribable heat in Klaus. 

Makes sense. Ben can't kiss anyone else while dead. He can't manifest. Klaus is the only one who can feel a trace of Ben's warmth lingering. "Sure, of course," Klaus rambles, grasping his kneecaps as he crosses his legs. "Not a problem."

"No?" Ben says teasingly, his dark eyes smiling.

Klaus groans. "Are you gonna do it or chickenshit out like you _alwa_ —" Violet-tinged lips cut him off, chilled and candied sweet, "— _hhnm!_ —" and he reacts on habit, pressing against Ben, roaming his hands over his sides. Diving under the leather jacket.

They're all mouths and fingers itching to touch more. More and more. Ben kisses him crushingly hard, tight and unyielding, and Klaus whispers out his name, easing the pressure. He gently probes open Ben's mouth, stroking in. 

One of Klaus's thumbs graze to Ben's cheek. He's a little warmer.

"Here," Ben exhales into the kiss, not opening his eyes. He guides Klaus's other hand to flatten against his jean-crotch. "Down here." Klaus obeys, palming him, not overthinking it. Ben's getting hard. Klaus wasn't so sure if Ben could be after all of this. 

"Think you can cum?"

"No idea…"

Klaus's grinning teeth bump against Ben's jaw. 

"Wanna find out?" he mumbles, nipping him. It's worth hearing the sharp stutter in Ben's inhale.

"Do… _you_ want to, Klaus?" 

Klaus chuckles, dropping his forehead onto a leather jacket-shoulder. "Man, you're ridiculously hot like this. All insecure and needy." He frames his hand to the shape of Ben's heavy erection, gripping on him and feeling Ben arch up on his knees a little. Good god.

"Fuck off, dude," Ben pants. "I'm a virgin."

The reminder suddenly somersaults Klaus's gut. 

"Listen, alright, I'll let you cum inside me if you want," Klaus says offhandedly. "In my mouth. It's the least I can do."

Ben doesn't flush but goes slack-jawed.

"Uhh…"

"That a yes or a no, Benny?"

" _Hell_ _yes,_ and stop calling me that," Ben says in a low, raspy tone. He snatches onto Klaus's long beard and yanks him in. Klaus finds himself crawl in, giggling, but settles himself naked between Ben's crooked legs. Unzipping and frisking apart those black jeans.

It feels like touching anyone else real. 

Ben's _real_. He always has been.

Warm and sturdy.

Klaus noses against the cock in front of him, licking up to the moistened, bulbous head. A pretty nice cock, he admits. Good length. Ben moans out something, crumpling backwards onto the floor and pushing his hands shakily over his face. 

"We'll work our way up to fucking," Klaus quips. "Reward points system."

_"Klaus…"_

He slicks the pre-cum around his lips, mouthing him, gulping Ben down and letting the stifling sensation of fullness overtake Klaus's awareness. God, _yes_. The charms of having no gag reflex… is, for him, downing dick for days.

Virgins don't last long. Klaus prepares himself for it, relaxing his throat-muscles and sucking him, pulling off. His tongue runs along the flesh-warm slit of Ben's cockhead. That's when Ben orgasms, trembling and hollering out. The cock pulses in Klaus's mouth, spewing a bitter load of semen. Ghost-semen. Klaus realizes the pulsing sensation matches his own heartbeat. Okay, _weird_.

"Nine outta ten," Klaus whispers, swallowing the remnants and licking his own mouth. It's different.

Ben's weak, embarrassed laugh echoes the yacht's cabin. 

"You did not just rate yourself…" 

"Oh… I'm a whole _ten_ , baby," Klaus says, grinning and poking Ben's abdomen. "So jot that down."

_"You're an idiot…"_

"Mm," Klaus hums. He gathers Ben's knees together and sets his chin on them. It's late. He's still hard as a rock. 

But it can wait.

Klaus doesn't mind.

*


End file.
